
Read all the posts about this trip in backwards order (or better yet, start at the bottom and work up) here.
Leaving Paradise (what an odd phrase to type) we knew we'd have 30 miles of wonderful downhill, with only one small climb in the middle before we'd have to climb again. We dressed warmly and promised to stop regularly and enjoy the mountain, vistas and morning light. There's so much to enjoy.




Eventually, in a not horribly long time, though it seemed like forever, Greg drove up, and noticing our wild waving and perhaps tears, pulled over. In an amazingly short time he fished the frayed cable out of the shifter, installed a new one and pronounced us ready to go. Disaster averted.
Heather, riding "sweep" for the day, rolled in while Greg was working and tossed a small feel-good bone to us by saying "Well, you two aren't who I expected to catch."
And with that we were back on the road and headed for still more wondrous views.

Not only are the views and flowers interesting, the geology is fascinating as well. Even my untutored eye could often see how glaciers and water had carved, and continue to carve the earth.

After our long downhill we got to climb back up to 4400 feet and Whites Pass, where we stopped at a gas station for lunch. Unlike most gas stations this one had, in addition to the usual fare, locally smoked salmon. Not too shabby. We also realized it was a mail pick-up point for travelers hiking the Pacific Coast Trail when we saw a backpacker picking up the package they'd held for him.
After our last climb of the day we got to enjoy a 15 mile slight downhill and a mild tailwind. It's sections of the road like this that trick me into thinking "Yep, I've got this cycling stuff down. Am I strong today or what?" Delusions can be a beautiful thing.
Due to our earlier delay we arrived at camp a bit late. But we still had time to do some laundry and later soak our feet in the river and kick back some. Tricia's book club was reading Barbara Kingslover's Prodigal Summer and Tricia found a perfectly appropriate place to read it.

At our map meeting we went over the next day's route, little knowing that, though Windy Point wasn't too windy that day, we would discover that Washington could indeed kick up a breeze.

.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I'm turning off comment moderation for posts younger than 60 days, so your words will appear right quick.